


So So Gone

by sapphic_ambitions



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Bisexuality, Eliot realizes quentin is bi, Fluff, M/M, Our boys are idiots, set in season one, they both realize they have feelings for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 12:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18638587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphic_ambitions/pseuds/sapphic_ambitions
Summary: Of course Quentin knew that Eliot was attractive. Anyone with eyes could take one look at the tall glass of water and find themselves parched. Q could have said that from the moment he met Eliot, just a few weeks ago, when he came to Brakebills for the first time. But it’s not like he had feelings for Eliot.





	So So Gone

Of course Quentin knew that Eliot was attractive. Anyone with eyes could take one look at the tall glass of water and find themselves parched. Q could have said that from the moment he met Eliot, just a few weeks ago, when he came to Brakebills for the first time. But it’s not like he had  _feelings_  for Eliot.

 

His first few weeks at Brakebills have been a wild fucking ride, but the only constant seems to have been Eliot.  _(And Margo, but mostly Eliot.)_ Eliot is always there, in the cottage when Quentin went to sleep at night and in the afternoon when Quentin got home from class. He always greeted Quentin with the same dazzling smile. He always made Quentin feel at home.

 

Eliot was never one for studying or…..reading, but he and Margo would often hang out with Quentin while he read for class in the library. They didn’t distract him or make fun of him for being “nerdy,” but they were just a comfortable presence next to him. The two would pass notes or whisper or being doing their own work ( _well_ ,  _Margo would be doing her own work_ ) and Quentin was grateful that they cared. He said so one day, too. Quentin has been  ~~studying Eliot’s face~~ learning Eliot’s mannerism over the last a few weeks, and he instantly recognizes the way Eliot’s eyes flit around the room as he swallows his emotions with a charming smile and clears his throat. Quentin’s heart beats a little faster.

 

“Like we’d let you be alone in a  _library_  of all places Quentin,” Eliot laughed and leaned back in his chair and Quentin tried to hide his blush behind his hair.

 

So yes, Quentin knew Eliot was attractive because he had eyes and because Eliot was always there and because he knew Eliot cared about his friends. But Quentin kept his feelings in check because it’s not like he ever actually had a  _chance_  with him. And it’s not like Eliot was  _that_  hot.

 

That’s what Quentin kept telling himself until one day he was heading to the upstairs bathroom in the cottage and Eliot came out of the shower. It was like he was in a  _fucking_  movie and this was all happening in slow motion. The door opened and steam poured out into the hallway as Eliot himself stepped out wearing nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His whole perfectly sculpted upper body was glistening and dripping in water droplets.

 

Quentin’s brain shut down. “ _Eliot_! HEy, um, I was just. I, uh, um, was going to- Not that you shOuld! I, I, uh,  _wow,_  so like the water, uh wEAther, I mean.  _I mean_ not that you’ve, uh, I was just-whew,  _who’s_  to say, you know?” Quentin wanted to crawl into a hole. That was like a level ten fuck up.

 

But Eliot laughed, lightly brushed his knuckles on the side of Quentin’s face ( _holyfuckingshit_ ), and said “I believe Margo refers to this as the Bisexual Panic,”

 

“Uh huh,” Quentin said, trying not to make eye contact but not wanting to look away but not wanting to look at Eliot’s neck or chest but not wanting to look at the floor cause it looked like he was looking somewhere else and so his eyes were awkwardly flitting around the room.

 

Eliot brushed his thumb over Quentin’s chin. “My eyes are up here, Coldwater” He said, and Quentin made eye contact long enough for Eliot to wink at him and walk away.

 

Fuck. He was  _so_  gone.

 

\----

 

When Eliot and Margo had adopted their little first year, Eliot never expected to catch  _feelings_  for him. Quentin Coldwater was an absolute super nerd with no fashion sense or social skills. He was  _so_  different than Eliot’s usual parade of boy toys and twinks, and that somehow made him  _even more_  appealing. Because Q was intelligent and kind and caring and open about all the things he loved. But Eliot would refuse to admit any kind of affection and so he told himself that Quentin was straight and it wasn’t even an option. He would be content to be friends with him.

 

And then the Shower Bisexual Panic Moment happened last week and Eliot’s whole view shifted. He turned on his queer-dar and actually started paying attention to Q’s signals. Unable to sit in chairs correctly: check. Long feminine hair: check. Frequently does finger guns: check. Inability to drive: check. A large assortment of hoodies and flannels: check. Spent an equal amount of time ranting about Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter: check. One day Quentin even wore a bracelet with three beads: pink, purple, and blue.

 

“Bambi, I’m an idiot,” Eliot sighed, collapsing on the couch next to Margo. “Q’s not straight,”

 

Margo quirked an eyebrow. “I could have told you that from the moment I met him. Have you seen the way he sits?”

 

Eliot groaned. “How did I just now figure this out?”

 

Margo rolled her eyes and gave him a pointed look. “Do you want me to actually answer that or-”

 

“Hush, Bambi,” Eliot hissed just as Quentin came down the stairs of the cottage.

 

Normally, Quentin wore t-shirts and hoodies and ill-fitting jeans with his hair an absolute mess. Normally, Q moved through rooms like he was afraid to exist in it. But the Q that came down the stairs was like a different man. Well, still the same awkward Q, but…..he looked  _good_ and he  _knew it._  An unusual confidence radiated off of him in a way Eliot had never seen in his friend. Q was wearing a slim jeans and a dark blue button up with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was neatly pulled back into a low bun and he looked…..put together. And grown up. And  _hot_. Like, H-O-T.

 

Eliot’s brain went haywire. His jaw dropped. Margo rolled her eyes again.

 

“How do I look, guys?” Q asked, sheepishly. “I’m getting dinner with my dad and I want him to think that I’m doing fine,”

 

“Fine is right,” Eliot mutters under his breath, eyes wide.

 

Q’s eyes flicked to him and Eliot held back a moan. “What’d you say, El?”

 

Eliot cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, crossing his legs. “I said you look great, Q.”

 

Quentin grinned and spun on his heels and went out the front door. Eliot was certainly sad that he was leaving but glad to watch him go. Those jeans did a number on his ass and Eliot couldn’t think straight.  ~~Hah~~.

 

Margo elbowed him. “And that’s what I call the Disaster Gay Panic,”

 

“Excuse me,” Eliot shot her an offended look. “I am a  _Distinguished_  Gay,”

 

Margo patted his shoulder as she stood up and walked away. “Just keep telling yourself that, El,” Eliot huffed, crossed his arms, and stared at the front door.

 

Fuck. He was  _so_ gone. 


End file.
